Nightmares
by BadInLatin
Summary: They both get nightmares. Sometimes when they're together. May/Ward.
1. May

AN: I wanted to write something earlier in their relationship, and this is what happened. Rated teen for violence and mentions of sex. Comments and criticism are always loved and appreciated! Thank you for reading my work.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these incredible characters, only my writing.

* * *

They both fall asleep pretty quickly after the sex. It's their third time together and the routine has stayed the same: a few words of pillow talk, then May rolls onto her side, and they both fall asleep. No more touch until morning, they know the arrangement is delicate; if either of them dares to feel anything they shouldn't it will have to end. Ward sleeps on his back; perfectly still, like a soldier, with May next to him lying on her side, her back to him, away from the temptation to bridge the gap between them with contact.

He lays fast asleep. Oblivious to the involuntary twisting of her expression, her teeth clenching, hands forming fists around the sheets, muscles tightening in expression of the turmoil in her mind. In reality she's in a hotel room, but in her mind she's back in Bahrain. Alone. Fighting. There's blood on her hands and bodies at her feet. She's surrounded by chaos, losing track of how many lives she's taken, how many necks she's snapped and organs she's rendered useless with her bare hands. She's killed so many of them, but that does not deter them. They just keep coming, and coming, and coming, and she doesn't know how much longer she can keep doing this. Keep any form of control. There's so much blood, none of it hers. She hears the snap of bone. More blood. She doesn't think she can do this. She wants to scream. She never screams. Bodies shatter at her hands and feet. Oh God, there's so much blood. She can't do this anymore. Scream bubbling in her throat. Control slipping from her movements. She can't do this. So. Much. Blood. She can't. She can't!

She bolts awake, heart racing, breathing heavily, her face twisted into an animalistic snarl, sheets clenched in her fists. Raw and animalistic, overtaken with rage. With hate.

Ward wakes instantly, overcome by instinct he roles of the bed, grabs a gun from his bag and in a split second he's in a fighting stance, weapon trained on the door. Perfect solider. It's only after a few seconds of complete stillness that he looks over his shoulder. May looks more exhausted than anything else, something between lingering fear and relief written on her face as she stares at her lap, shoulders slumped, fists still wrapped around the blankets. Ward glances around the room one last time, just to be sure, and is quickly assured that the threat is not in the hotel room, it's in her mind. Slowly, he relaxes and lowers the gun. She looks up at him, visibly shaken, but just shakes her head. "Go back to sleep, Ward." She tells him, forcing herself to unclench her fists. She's fine. She's safe in a hotel room. It was only a dream.

Ward puts the gun down and moves back next to her, careful to move slowly, predictably, he's never seen her this raw. He figures it's been a long time since anyone has. This is delicate ground. "I'm fine." She insists, more for her own benefit than his "Just a dream."

But it's more than that, and they both know it. It was a nightmare and it isn't hard for Ward to guess it's content. Bahrain. She leans forward; trying to slow her breathing and heart rate, regain her perfect control. He had been amazed that the berserker staff had not affected her the way it had him, blown away. She hadn't lashed out at anyone, been no colder than usual, no less in perfect control of herself and her body. The only thing that changed was her shift in attitude towards him, offering her company and initiating their arrangement. He has assumed that somehow she was just unaffected, well adjusted enough to immune to the power he has been so susceptible to. He realized he was wrong.

May might not have buried her memories like he did, but that didn't mean she didn't feel it, feel the way they were dragged to very forefront of her mind. Maybe when she was lucid she had the power to accept them and move on but in her sleep she was as vulnerable as he had been. The staff had dragged her too into the darkest pieces of the past. He reaches out to touch her shoulder, but pauses before contact is made. He needs to know if she wants this. "May I?" She nods her head. He places the hand on her shoulder. She closes her eyes, her breathing slowing down to her normal rate. Pressing her fingers to her wrist, she checks her pulse. Normal. She sighs and closes her eyes again. She's safe.

They stay like that for a time, next to each other, May's held hung forward, Ward prepared to stay like that for as long as she needs. Finally she speaks. "I'm okay now."

"You sure?" He asks.

"I'm sure." She turns her head to him, her expression back to a perfectly controlled neutral. Ward wants to say something, needs to say something, but he knows she's worked through it herself in her head, he can't say anything she doesn't already know. But still. He wants to help, wants to give her more than this, promise her something. They both know he can't. There are still too many walls between them, there has to be, and he expects May to quickly work on rebuilding the one that fell. She doesn't. She smiles, it's small, but genuine. "Thank you, though." She leans her body sideways, resting her head on his shoulder. Without words, she knows what he wants to say, and he knows what the gesture means. It's enough for both of them.

A few moments later she rights herself and lies back down on her pillow. "Goodnight, Ward." She says as he does the same, returning to his usual sleeping position on his back. As per usual, May roles on to her side, facing away from him. But this time, her back rests against his arm. She's letting that wall stay down.


	2. Ward

AN: Here's the second part, set right after T.A.H.I.T.I. I really like writing these two. This will probably be the last chapter of this fic, but if inspiration strikes after future episodes I might continue with the idea. Quiet late night conversations are a favourite of mine. As always, feedback is very much appreciated and thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own either of these brilliant characters, I just love to write them

* * *

Ward wanders through the dark cabin of the bus, gun in hand. Something is wrong. He can feel it. The lights are completely out. He can barely see where he's going. He feels choked by the utter silence as he peers around a corner. No one is there.

Beep. The noise is loud, crystal clear, source unknown. Beep… Beep... Beep… Skye. Her heart monitor. Something is wrong with Skye. His pace quickened as he moved through he plane. Beep. Beep. Beep. Her heart rate is increasing. He has to move faster. Down the stairs, neared and neared to her med pod. Beep beep beep. "Simmons!" He shouts, no answer. He's so close. Beepbeepbeep. Her heart rate is spiking. He's turning the final corner. He can see the light of the pod from around the corner.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeep. No. No! Skye! He turns the corner. Skye.

She's standing outside the pod, her expression hauntingly blank, and her eyes sunken and lifeless. "Skye?" she stares at him, lit only by the blue light from the pod. She looks worse than she did before, he complexion sallow, nearly grey, and cheeks hollowed. He stares, eyes wide.

"Why did you let this happen to me Ward?" She asks, looking down at her body. Ward's eyes follow hers and he sees. She's in the same clothes she wore on the train job. He takes a step back and sees the blood, seeping through two places in her shirt. "Why didn't you protect me?" she moves forward, her shirt quickly becoming soaked. He finds himself up against a wall. He tries to speak, but his mouth won't move. Blood drips from Skye's mouth. "Why didn't you protect me, Ward? I was all alone. I had no weapon. You're my SO, you're supposed to keep me safe." She spits the word at him, and suddenly a gun is pressed to his side. He tried to open his mouth, to speak, to tell her how sorry he is, plead for her to stop this, but there's nothing but the sound of Skye's flat line in the background.

She pulls the trigger.

"Ward?" May's voice? What is she doing here? Skye shoots again. "Ward." May's hand is on his arm, gently tugging. And suddenly, Skye vanishes.

He's back upstairs, in May's bunk, her and on her arm and concern on her face. "Skye." He says in a frantic whisper, panic in his eyes.

"Skye is safe, Ward." She tells him, calm, gentle, but firm. "You got the serum, you helped save her. She's healing." Ward glances around, shaking the dream away, and realizing it was just that. A dream. He nods his head, trying to regain his composure.

"Sorry I woke you." He mumbles.

"No." she shakes her head "Don't be." For a moment, there's only the buzz of the plane. "Are you okay?" she asks.

"Yeah," he says automatically and then, again "yeah." Quieter, more genuine, "Just a dream." She nods, understanding. The berserker nightmares have died down with time, she's gotten better at controlling them, but she's been in this position more often than anyone would like. Afraid of her subconscious like he's afraid of his. Her hand remains on his arm, a reminder that she's here. That she understands.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No." he says without thinking, but her gaze doesn't falter. "Sort of. No. I don't know." He sighs, and is quiet for a moment. May doesn't move. "It was about Skye." He admits.

"Skye's going to be okay." She reminds him once more. "You couldn't have prevented anything, Ward."

"I know. I just, I just wish I could have. I can't help but wonder maybe if I'd done something differently…" The sentence trails off into the dark, but he doesn't need to finish it, she knows exactly what he means.

"You did everything you could. I encouraged you to take the job as her SO for a reason, Ward." She places a hand on his shoulder. "You're good at this. Skye's going to be okay. And she's going to be a great agent someday and _that _is because of _you_." He meets her eyes, finding no hint of a lie. He wants to believe her, wants nothing more than to believe her, to protect the team, but Skye's words haunt him.

"I was supposed to protect her."

"You did." She insists, "You trained her, you got her the serum. Skye is alive right now because of _you, _Grant, _you_. Skye couldn't have a better SO and she knows it."

"You mean that?"

"I don't say things that I don't mean." He smiles.

"Yes you do." She shrugs slightly.

"Not tonight."

"You called me Grant." He points out. "You never use my first name."

"I never need to." He reaches towards her, placing a loose piece of hair behind her ear, managing a smile. It's returned.

"You want to go back to sleep?" she asks. He thinks for a second, too proud to admit the affect the dream is still having on him. Skye still stares at him from inside is head, the scene replaying over in his head, Skye's words echoing. But he thinks of her, as she is in reality, asleep in her pod, growing stronger by the minute.

"No." he says, shaking his head. This is world he wants to be in. Here, with her. May checks the digital clock on her bedside table, finding that they'll have to be up in a few hours anyway.

"Okay." He wraps himself around her, resting his head on her chest to hear her heart beat. She puts her arms around him in turn, trying not to admit to herself how nice this feels. She wishes she could tell him how safe he makes her feel. Of how good a job he's doing, how much they need him. How much _she _needs him. She just squeezes him a little tighter. This is in direct violation of their no cuddling rule, but neither cares. They lay like that until dawn.


End file.
